


Grab my arse!

by hobbeshalftail3469



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I haven't done this scenario and it's fun, Strike and Robin creating a quick decoy, Strike gets a slap, Strike gets an Ex girlfriend, Strike had a grilfriend, a clinch in a corridor, a small amount of undressing, different opinions on an ice sculpture, drinks in a pub to end the evening, lipstick on the collar, lots of banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 18:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20412517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/pseuds/hobbeshalftail3469
Summary: So, I was stuck for an hour and a half in a non-moving traffic jam on my way back from holidays and this happened.the idea has been in my head for a bit, and I have never done one of these scenarios where Robin and Strike have to quickly assume a decoy as if they are together.In this one Strike and his girlfriend attend the same event as Robin, knowing that Strike and Robin are technically working.They find what they need but need a quick cover story to explain why they are in a corridor downstairs away from the party....Strike sort of suggests the obvious and to his delight and shock Robin goes for it.Strike gets in bother with his ladyfriend and ends up getting slapped and drinking with Robin instead......sigh!





	Grab my arse!

“You do realise that I’m technically working don’t you?” Strike’s deep voice rasped as the tall, slender woman beside him began rubbing her palm across his buttocks which were snuggly encased in the crisp, navy wool of his Italian suit.  
“I know….but you do scrub up pretty well!” she grinned as she grasped the flute of Champagne Strike was holding out for her.  
He begrudgingly sipped at the other he’d taken for himself, a lack of any alternative upon entering the swanky event had caused his momentary lapse in drinking standards!  
“Yeah, well….I need to find some way of getting into the archives. I already know they’ve got pretty flimsy security, Robin’s been doing a great job this week on the details,” he took one further sip of the fizzy wine, grimaced and plonked the glass unceremoniously down on the first empty surface he found.  
The woman on Strike’s arm raised her eyebrows slightly at the mention of his work partner. 

Strike had met Nadine, ‘Call me Dina’ when he’d been called in to look into some irregularities over gender based pay in the company who shared the same office space.  
She was attractive, she’d openly stated she wasn’t interested in anything serious; although in Strike’s experience this frequently changed at around about the 8 to 10 date timeframe…..this was their 9th ‘date’ technically!

“Is she going to be here then?” Dina asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but Strike detected the slight sharpness to her tone.   
He ignored it.  
“Yeah, she’s technically staff at the moment, so she’ll be here. She mentioned she was coming with one of the other PAs she’s got pally with…anyway, she’s bringing the key we need, so I hope she turns up!” his mouth suddenly brightened at the sight of a drinks tray which this time contained a range of red and white wine glasses. He selected a red and took an initial slurp to rid his mouth of the offensiveness of the Champagne, then sipped a second, swirling the ruby liquid around his mouth and emitting a throaty moan, which just happened to coincide with his sight of a familiar honey-gold coloured hairstyle across the room – at least that’s what he’d tell Dina if she noticed!

Dina however was semi oblivious and was at present pursing her lips at the sight of the new temp (Henrick’s) young, Swedish backside clad in smart grey pants….Strike’s preoccupation was working to her advantage too!

Robin was part way down a glass of white wine when she saw Strike make his way in.   
She’d sniggered at his expression when tasting the Champagne across the room, but was in light hearted conversation with a couple of the other female PAs, plus a couple of the temps, a Londoner called Silas and a Swedish guy called Henrick had sidled over and were having introductions made.

Strike couldn’t help but notice the appraising glances of the tall, dark skinned man towards Robin.   
She hadn’t mentioned anything about any men in her team, she certainly hadn’t said anything about good looking ones like this one, and the blond who was clearly making some amusing comment as the quartet laughed……the dark dude pressing on Robin’s forearm in that ‘share the laugh with me’ kind of way.  
Strike was slightly annoyed that it made the hairs prickle on his arms. 

He passed his attention briefly back to Dina who was now chatting happily to a female colleague.   
She introduced him and he shook hands pleasantly, storing away for the later the fact that she’d described him as ‘the guy I’m seeing; the one I told you about,’ and that her colleague flashed him a warm, slightly aroused smile.  
“Erm…..can you excuse me just a second?” he sauntered across to a place within Robin’s eyeline, just in case she hadn’t seen him – unlikely given his height of at least an inch on most of the assembled crowd – but she hadn’t as yet met his eyeline, and still seemed quite enthralled by the attention of ‘Smug Bastard’ (he was used to coming up with names for marks, and he indulged himself on this occasion!)

Robin had of course noticed Cormoran moving away from Nadine.   
She wasn’t completely sure how she felt about the tall, slim and actually rather pleasant woman Strike had been seeing for several weeks.   
He seemed quite happy, but Strike being Strike he seldom discussed his personal life; all she’d managed to glean so far is that she was called Nadine; was a controlling member of the company who shared the office space with the law firm they were investigating, and that her company organised corporate training on creating inclusive workplaces; she liked Prestat chocolates and French films.  
It was kind of hard to dislike her, although Robin really hadn’t taken to her based on the fleeting looks she had cast her, and Strike, so far!

From his position, fiddling with his phone and casting glances back towards Dina it was clear he was attempting to make her think he was taking a call, however he was actually taking the advantage of observing his work partner’s stunning choice of outfit for the party.   
What was it that Nadine had said to him; he didn’t scrub up bad?   
Bloody hell, Robin didn’t need a scrub, but she looked amazing.

He glorious amber hair cascaded down her back, although it was swept up and off her face in a neat wave, held in place with a silver hair slide.  
The rest of her body was encased in a stunning jumpsuit, the colour of a mallard's feathers in the sunlight. The trousers were wide legged, but the hips and waist were fitted to her slender curves. The top part was almost a vest style, but with more fabric, so it fell in rippling waves against her bustline, seeming to accentuate the already glorious swell of each breast.  
She flicked her head across and finally seemed to notice him, her eyes flashing fractionally as he nodded into his phone and met her gaze for just a second.  
Gathering up her small clutch bag and wine glass which Strike noted was still at least half full (lightweight!) she ambled sexily across towards the toilets.   
Strike’s hackles rose again as he saw Smug Bastard’s gaze follow her rear view, although when he cast a hasty glance across he acquiesced that maybe the lingering look was justified!

Robin made a sharp and quick detour from the toilets and hovered slightly out of sight behind a wide column which also had one of those roll out and pop up temporary posters beside it for added coverage.  
Her eyes cast around the space but she couldn’t see the dark head she was searching for.   
She was considering getting out her phone when there was a familiar runbling baritone behind her, combined with a whiff of sexy, masculine cologne.  
“D’ya come ‘ere often then?” he asked jokily; his comment was as much to cover his ridiculous momentary lack of control as it was to inform her of his presence.

Up close he could see that she was wearing a little more make up than she usually wore on a daily basis. Her eyes looked more sultry, her lips were a darker shade of burgundy and from this distance he could see that she had small, stud earrings in the shape of shells in her pale earlobes.

He smiled briefly, a true, warm, crinkle eyed smile, “I bought you those didn’t I?” he stated, flicking the tip of his finger behind her left ear and shaking away the moment as he saw a pink flush creep up his work partner’s cheeks.

“Errrr, yeah…I think you did…….for my last Birthday,” she wrinkled her nose and trailed her fingers across the skin Cormoran had just a second earlier touched.

Strike nodded minimally, his mind went back to his visit to Cornwall the summer before. He’d noticed the small silver smiths when he was out with Ted and Joan for a meal and had gone back the following day. As soon as he saw the pair of small, silver cockle shell earrings he knew they would be perfect for Robin and had bought them and nodded blithely when the owner had assumed they were ‘a present for a lucky ladyfriend’ before gift wrapping them in pale peach coloured tissue paper and adding an aqua coloured ribbon.  
When he’d given them to Robin her expression had been one of true happiness, and she’d put them in her ears immediately and worn them for the rest of the day at work.  
When she’d shown them to Ilsa her eyebrows had flown up to her hairline, “These will have cost a fucking fortune! That is a really well known bespoke jewellery shop…..blimey…..lucky you!”  
This information had changed Robin’s view of the gift, and she now considered them ‘best’ earrings, hence they’d come out for the event this evening.

Strike cleared his throat and gave a sniff, “Right, down to business then. Where do we need to head from here?”  
Robin nodded and pulled lightly on his lapel to move him both closer to her, but also in the direction she was indicating with her hand.  
“That door over there…..it’s not locked, I’ve checked, and people are going in and out quite a bit – they’ll be using the exec loos through there I bet – anyway, one set of stairs down, they’re on the left as you go through, and then along the corridor and I’ve got the key here,” Robin flicked open her clutch bag and flashed him a stainless steel key.  
“OK, you keep it, then if anyone stops you, you can pretend you’ve been asked for something,” he nodded briskly, back into business mode although her usual subtle scent seemed more powerful and alluring in his nostrils.  
“What about if someone stops you down there?” she asked.  
He shrugged and wrinkled his nose and jaw, “I’ll pretend to be pissed and have gone the wrong way….if you start asking people to join in with a verse of Danny Boy and threatening to show them your false leg people are usually pretty forgiving!”  
Robin sniggered.  
“You go back and finish your drink with the dark hunk and we’ll aim to meet down there 25 minutes from now,” and he was striding away in his uneven gait before Robin could comment about his choice of phrase.

She glanced at her watch and made a mental adjustment about how long she had before making her way back to her friend, Carrie, who was still in conversation with Henrick and Silas.   
She vaguely noted that both were really attractive young men….the emphasis being on young!   
Silas was, she assumed, who Strike was referring to as the ‘dark hunk’, and he certainly was dark, and good looking…..but he was far to ‘pretty’ and clean shaven, and skinny she found herself running through in her head!  
She also mentally shook herself – since when were those things to be considered negatives in a guy!?!

“Hey, Robin…..we were thinking of going through there,” Carrie indicated the offices of Nadine’s company, which had their glass doors thrown wide open and appeared to have a number of comfortable ‘non-desk’ working spaces available.  
She nodded in acceptable and was vaguely aware of Silas’s hand resting on the small of her back to guide her….it was quite sweet really!  
The quartet passed close to the group which now contained Nadine and Cormoran, and she forced herself not to notice the up and down glance of Strike’s girlfriend (he’d never referred to her as such, but she was the most recent female who was repeatedly on his arm!)  
Strike noticed Nadine’s glance too and steadfastly ignored Robin’s figure as it passed, although he did do a quick and casually concealed double take at the sight of Smug Bastard’s hand pretty much on her arse.

Twenty six minutes later Robin made a point of staring at her watch as Strike casually strolled down the corridor she’d given him directions to.  
“You’re late!” she quipped, smirking and waggling her eyebrows, “Did Dina not want to let you out of her sight?”  
Strike rolled his eyes, but saw the amusement in her eyes and replied in his deep drawl and with a shrug, “She’s only human!”  
He noticed a small flare behind Robin’s eyes and she swallowed before quickly flourishing the key.  
“Yep….let’s get on with what we need to do. You start with Hanson, I’ll find Crawshaw, and we’ll go from there. We’ve got 4 names, so we need basic CVs, attendance records, qualifications, starting dates, salaries and other benefits and if possible any details about who interviewed them,” Strike nodded and glanced around to ensure they were unobserved as Robin unlocked the door and they slid behind it.

Twenty two minutes later still Strike cautiously opened the door a fraction, checking the corridor was still empty before allowing Robin to exit beneath his outstretched arm. She locked the door and Strike gave the door handle a quick wipe with his jacket lining out of habit.  
“Well bloody done!” he breathed as they grinned at each other.

For the whole duration of their time in the archive files they’d hardly noticed each other, except to hiss across pertinent comments and affirmatives. 

“So they were definitely right,” Robin began, although she was immediately halted by Strike’s hand dragging her to a standstill as they heard subdued voices and footsteps on the staircase leading down.  
“Fuck!”  
“Bugger!”

“Most obvious reason for a male and female to have absconded from a party for the past 20 minutes or so?” Strike remarked huskily, waggling his eyebrows, fully expecting Robin to laugh in his face and make a hasty alternative suggestion.  
Instead she grabbed his lapel and pulled him back against the wall, “Ok, well grab my arse then!” she stated as she dragged her elegantly shoed foot up and hooked it around his hip, twisting around so that it was his back resting against the wall.  
Her fingers worked quickly to unfasten several more of his shirt buttons, mentally congratulating his seeming inability to do up the top couple.

Strike was dragged from his speechless reverie by the feel of her soft hand sliding against his bare chest, “Robin! It only has to be a ruse,” he whispered, unable to prevent his hand splaying under her smooth backside as she wobbled fractionally on her high heeled foot….and completely unable to remove it from it’s position once placed!

“We’ve been down here at least 20 minutes…..we’d have got this far!” she stated almost calmly back at him before ruffling her hand through his hair and burying her own head in his neck to give herself, when she pulled back briefly, a convincingly rumpled and sexy as fuck dishevelled make over.

The voices and footsteps were closer.

Cormoran was aware of nothing except the closeness of Robin, the feel of her soft body pressed into his chest, her small hand and neatly painted nails swarming under his shirt, and when she’d briefly nestled her face into his neck, of her warm breath playing havoc with his equilibrium which was teetering on the verge of telling him to ‘Give me a fucking break will you!’

He somehow willed his practical side to kick in and although the vain part of him would love to have imagined that Robin had been desperate for a chance to rub her hands over his hairy body, he recognised that she was simply trying to create a plausible alibi.

Robin had been desperate for a chance to rub her hands over Cormoran’s broad, muscular body…..and she could always blame her almost reckless behaviour on providing them with a realistic alibi……although the feeling of Cormoran’s wide, splayed palm caressing her arse, and one of his fingers nudging tantalisingly close to ‘not her arse’ was making it somewhat difficult to apply her investigative brain to their current proximity.

“If we’ve been her that long, then…” she heard Strike’s muffled voice against her cheek, then felt his other hand move to smoothly unzip the back of her jumpsuit and deftly unfasten her bra strap, his hand spreading across the expanse of smooth, creamy skin revealed.  
They met each other’s eyes briefly, before both buried their faces against the other’s necks and made a series of incredibly realistic groans and whimpers of delight.

“What the…?” came an abrupt, unfamiliar male voice.

Strike lifted his head and met the gaze of the pair of security guards, “Bit of privacy lads…come on…..?” he urged, squeezing and pulling Robin’s hips closer to him as she glanced sexily over her shoulder and pouted at the two, black-clad men.

“Er…..we had an intruder alert for this floor…but ahhh….I suppose this would explain it,” the shorter of the pair smirked and nodded as his colleague explained.

“Just give me a second….you know how it is?!” Strike clicked his tongue in his cheek, “Can’t go back to the missus with a boner!”

Robin stifled her guffaw in Strike’s musky scented neck and bit her lip in a successful attempt to stop herself licking the stubbled skin resting against her nose.

“Right, they’ve gone……good work!” he nodded, flexing his neck, dragging his hands from where they desperately wanted to remain, and reorganising his shirt as Robin reached back to refasten her bra.

“Can you get this?” she asked, moving the curtain of glistening hair aside, indicating the zip on her jumpsuit.  
“Oh, yeah…..suppose I was responsible!” he chuckled slightly, and told himself that was why his hands shook slightly as he pulled up the fastener, gradually removing from his view the sight of the skin he’d been feeling so pleasurably against his palm seconds earlier.

“OK?” Robin asked, giving his appearance a quick up and down glance, she was fractionally interested as to whether there had been any truth to his comment regarding the state of his trouser department….but he appeared to have seen the encounter as nothing more than a professional encounter between them.

Strike saw her furtive glance down the length of his suit clad body and prayed that she didn’t notice his only just subsiding erection which he hoped he’d managed to disguise by painfully twisting his hips so as not to poke her with it during their clinch. She clearly saw the whole thing as nothing more than a professional encounter between them!

“You go out first and I’ll see you in the morning if that’s OK….I know it’s Saturday, but we could do with looking over what we both got,” he hissed before stating more loudly, “I’ll try and get rid of her and we can continue this later sweet cheeks!”

Robin pulled an amused and disgusted face before joining in with, “I’ll make it worth your while….I’ll let you do that thing with the shower attachment!” and she saucily scampered down the corridor, giggling for real at his raised eyebrows, adding a quick, “Hi, sorry for setting off your alarm thing,” as she passed the grinning security guards.

Strike allowed himself to briefly relive the sensation of having Robin pressed against him with her panting breath on his neck and his hand on her perfect arse.

Shit, he’d squeezed it….and his wandering and unruly hand had definitely almost strayed into ‘unchartered territory’….although her hands swarming under his shirt had done quite a bit of that too!

Having given her enough of a head start he managed to drag a slightly sheepish expression across his face as he climbed the stairs.  
“Appreciate your discretion,” he flashed towards the taller of the pair of guards.  
“Not to worry mate,” came his broad, Cockney response, “Can’t say I blame you…..can’t imagine anyone getting any work done staring at that all day in ‘ere!”

Strike pursed his lips and nodded curtly….much as he hated the idea of Robin, or indeed any woman, being treated as a piece of office decoration he couldn’t help but recognise the unknowing irony in the security guard’s comment.

He made his way back into the events room and found Dina who was glancing at her watch and tapping her foot a little as he strolled across to her.  
“Done,” he stated briefly and slid an arm around her waist, only fractionally comparing her slender form to the more curvy and in his mind, preferable shape of Robin. He also mentally punched himself.

Dina stopped scowling as he pressed his lips to her temple, but as he pulled her in closer she tensed and cleared her throat harshly.  
“A word…..not here,” she hissed and almost marched towards the quieter foyer.

Strike inhaled deeply as he followed her, no investigative skills were needed to know that he was in the doghouse for some reason….presumably for leaving her alone at the party for half an hour, although in his defence he’d already told her he needed to do the bit of background work!

Robin was sipping a glass of white wine, leaning against a plinth sporting a somewhat melting ice sculpture of what had earlier in the evening portrayed an elephant for some bizarre reason.   
She saw Dina’s clearly irritated demeanour and also noted the resigned, fractionally limping gait of Strike as he followed her.

Dina stopped and about turned to face him within the eyeline, but not the hearing range of Robin.  
Nadine’s features became unattractively sharp and vicious as she clearly tore him off a strip. Robin stifled a chuckle at the placid, unmoved expression of her work partner as he stood and took her tirade.

Strike dimly listened to the abuse being aimed at him, although to be honest he switched off when anyone raised their voice as she was currently doing…..it was safer to let them rant and then question or listen once the outburst was spent.  
Her hand came up to his shirt and she yanked at it making Cormoran become dimly aware that she was mentioning something about:  
“….stinking to high heaven of her bloody perfume and having dark red lipstick smudged all over your collar and you seriously ask me to believe that it is just about work with you two….”

Robin saw the body language and the tug at his clothing, and also saw Strike wince and twitch his neck slightly which he always did when he knew he was beaten……Robin knew that look so well – on the sofa at Nick and Ilsa’s when she’d insisted on accompanying him to Barrow, countless times she’d suggested herself tailing a suspect when his leg was playing up, and once, after a brief hug on the sweeping staircase of a hotel in Yorkshire when he’d walked back to a presumably stolen Jaguar driven by Shanker when he didn’t know her gaze was still on him through the window.

“You knew I was working tonight, and you knew Robin was assisting me….we frequently have to come up with spur of the moment cover stories, and this was one of them,” he stated as calmly and honestly as he could.

“Do you mean you were snogging her? While I was fucking standing here! You bastard!” Dina erupted and Robin made a short exclamation as her palm made a resounding crack against Strike’s bristled cheek.

Apparently she’d made her presence known by her utterance of shock because Nadine’s face of fury was now honing in on Robin’s alert posture beside the rapidly dwindling lump of dripping ice.  
Robin heard Strike’s voice and almost willed him to ‘shut up you silly sod!’ as he encouraged Dina to, “Just leave it….there’s no point being angry with her!”  
It was at this point that he noticed the two sniggering security guards observing the events unfolding and rolled his eyes at the thought that they were putting two and two together and coming up with at least 9!

Nadine advanced towards Robin, shaking her head.  
Robin pressed her lips into a defiant, and to Strike’s slightly glazed eyes, gorgeously sexy pout as Dina approached her.  
“Have him! He’s all yours!” she spat, before dragging her hand through the puddle of icy water in the tray beneath the melting elephant and launching a splattering handful directly at Robin.

It caught her in the face and chest, immediately making the fabric of her outfit cling to her cleavage and turning the sexy pout into an open mouthed ‘000’ of shock.  
Nadine strode out of the foyer and away from the varied turned heads and raised eyebrows.

Strike looked at her rapidly moving form – he knew he couldn’t keep up with her….and a larger part of him didn’t really want to (Christ he was a shit boyfriend!), so instead he crossed to Robin who was sniffing and shaking a few droplets of water from her face whilst trying, unsuccessfully, to stop her ice water hardened nipples from showing through the front of her top.

“You OK?” Strike asked sheepishly, dragging a hand across his chin and wincing slightly as he moved over his recently slapped cheek.

Robin met his eyes and rather than anger he was met with the sight of her struggling to prevent herself laughing out loud.  
“I’m fine! What about you?” she pulled a face as he scratched the back of his head, creating a quite deliciously unique style to his already ruffled curls.  
“Not my first time slapped by an ex girlfriend!” he stated ruefully.

“Well it’s my first time being splashed by a melted bloody elephant by one of your irate girlfriends!” she added, the giggles now unable to be suppressed.

“Elephant?! I thought it was a horse!” Strike regarded the lump of ice.

“How the hell is that a horse? It had a trunk!” Robin replied, wiping across her cheeks with her thumb and shaking a few more drops of water from where they had settled on the tips of her hair.

Strike distractedly allowed his gaze to linger on her damp chest area, noting that her right nipple was apparently still rather cold compared to her left before he answered, “A trunk? I thought that was a leg….you know…” and he mimed his hands formed into vague hoof shapes, pulling them up in a ‘rampant’ style.

Robin continued almost absently rearranging her appearance….it vaguely reminded Strike of when she came into the office after getting caught in the rain.  
“A horse? Why the hell would there be an ice sculpture of a horse?” she queried, “And shouldn’t you go after Nadine?”

Strike considered her final comment….very briefly.  
“I can’t be arsed….and anyway…why the hell would there be an elephant? Just as likely to be a rampant horse…..”

Robin adjusted her shoulders, feeling that she was now back to normal composure following her brief icy shower.  
“Was that my fault?” she asked, quirking her eyebrow in a manner which he knew meant ‘Don’t avoid this conversation!’

In response he pulled back the lapel of his jacket and exposed his white shirt complete with dark red lipstick stain.  
“…and apparently I reek of your perfume! I did tell her it was work…but…..”

Robin wrinkled her nose, “Sorry,” she stated softly.  
“What for?” Strike asked huskily, “Neither of us have done anything wrong.”

There was a moment where they just looked at each other…it was brief, and neither could possibly tell the other of the sheer unbridled desire they saw reflected back at them in that millisecond.

“I know….but……you should go and grovel for forgiveness at least,” she grinned.  
Strike shook his head and answered sharply, “I bloody won’t! I ‘aven’t done anything wrong!” his voice had lifted at least one octave.

Robin sucked in her cheeks, “Bloody hell….you really are a shit boyfriend!” she quipped. 

“No I’m not! She made it very clear just then that she’s done with me….so if anything I’m a shit EX boyfriend!....and anyway, since you’re the cause of my obvious heartbreak the least you could do is buy be a decent drink!”

Robin sniggered, “Hmmmm, if you were a woman I’d take you for ice cream and suggest watching Bridget Jones.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Ellacott? I think we’ll stick to Doom Bar and a bag of crisps if you don’t mind…shall we?” and he extended his arm in the direction of the exit.

Their path took them directly towards the two security guards.   
Cheekily, Strike slung his arm across Robin’s shoulders as they got close,  
“Told you I’d get rid of her darlin’, now I’m all yours!”

They just about managed to stifle their belly laughs until they had reached the bottom of the steps leading to the offices.  
Strike dropped his arm and they walked side by side towards the closest pub, casting furtive glances at each other and collapsing into further fits of giggles every few paces.

Robin bought them drinks at the bar and Strike used his glowering bulk to establish them a small table where they sat and drank in comfortable companionship for the first two of Strike’s pints.

He’d just brought a third plus a second glass of wine for Robin, along with a replenishment of crisps and eased himself back into the small booth. Robin met his eyes and giggled, “What?” he asked, his green eyes forming one of his adorable, soft crinkled gazes.

“Nothing….just…..this……I can’t believe my job!” she laughed, shaking her head and slugging a mouthful of the fresh wine.

Strike gulped down about a quarter of his pint and licked the foam from his top lip.  
“Just out of curiosity….what can you do with a shower attachment?” he asked jokily.  
“Wouldn’t you like to know!?” she giggled back, nudging his elbow and laughing even harder as it dropped from the table and almost caused him to spill precious drops of his beer.

“THAT Ellacott, was almost a sackable offence!”

“Oh….you’d take me back….you can’t do without me!” she quipped back.

He silently mulled over the fact that he’d clearly ballsed up one relationship that evening, which hadn’t really effected him at all, other than to leave him with a slightly aching jaw…..but the relationship he couldn’t bear to mess up again seemed if anything stronger than ever…..and he could lie in his bed later, with the scent of her perfume on his shirt and the feel of her skin still vivid in his memory.

"True," he stated, clinking his pint to her raised wine glass.


End file.
